


Six Degrees of Separation

by alwaysgocrazy



Series: Love Through Song [8]
Category: Stitchers (TV)
Genre: Angst, Breakup, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-04
Updated: 2016-02-04
Packaged: 2018-05-18 06:00:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,539
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5901031
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alwaysgocrazy/pseuds/alwaysgocrazy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There are six degrees of separation. Each one is a little bit worse than the previous. But in the end, you're okay.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Six Degrees of Separation

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so, I HIGHLY recommend listening to the song, whether before or after reading this. The song is, firstly, amazing, but just aches like a bitch but it's great. Besides that, I really hope you enjoy c:

_There are six degrees of separation._

_Each one hurts a little more than the previous._

_But in the end, you’re okay._

_Let’s go back to how it began…_

***

We were together for about eight months. Cameron was something else; he changed my world. He helped me learn things I never thought I would understand. Emotions, feelings, _people_? I never imagined understanding as much as I do now.

One night, specifically January 23, he came over to my house unexpectedly. It was a strangely gloomy day in LA, a few rain droplets falling throughout the day. I answered the door. “Hey. What’s going on?”

“We need to talk,” he said with his head tilted down. He walked in but just past the door. He looked like he was stressed or upset about something. I may have a better understanding of people, but God only knows how hard it is to read them.

I looked at him as I closed the door. “I’m all ears. You want to sit on the couch?”

He shook his head and waved his hands. “No. No, I’m gonna try to make this quick.”

He still wasn’t looking at me. “Cameron, is everything alright?” I asked.

“I think we should break up.”

He finally looked up, his lips folded in together tightly. I just stared at him silently. “Why?” was the only response I could think of.

He took a deep breath. “I feel like…like I’m not right for you. I don’t think I’m the one who is supposed to sweep you off your feet.”

I shook my head. “What makes you think that?” My heart was racing, my hands shaking.

“You’re…remarkable, Kirsten. You really, truly are, but I’m never going to live up to what Liam was. I’m never going to be able to understand your past completely; there’s just so much I can’t provide for you. I just don’t think we’re…right for each other.”

I licked my lips. “Okay,” I said softly, trying to hide the pain that was taking over my body.

“Okay?”

“Okay.” I shrugged casually. “You know me; I’m already over it.”

He opened his mouth as if to say something but closed it. “Right. Well…I’ll see you at work?”

I nodded. “Yep. See you tomorrow.” I opened the door for him and let him leave.

Once I closed and locked the door, I ran to my room to cry myself to sleep.

***

_First degree_.

A broken heart is the worst. Or so I thought. I lied in bed for two days after that. I didn’t go into work like I told Cameron I would. I couldn’t bear to see his face. Camille tried her best to comfort me, but nothing helped. I went through a bottle and a half of whiskey just to try and numb the pain.

After a week, I was forced to go back into work. Nothing hurt more than that.

***

_Second degree._

This is what kills you. Longing for the person you want to be with and never going to be with. Having to see him every single day. Having him talk to you privately every single day through the toughest situations. Not having the cute little nicknames he always called you. And the worst? Knowing that he doesn’t know how hard it is on you.

There was a bit of awkward tension, but nothing too serious. I put on a show (with more than a little vodka in my system to help), trying to prove that I’m okay.

“Hey,” he said as I entered the break room. So much for me adding something to my coffee without anyone knowing.

“Hey,” I grin. “How are you?”

He shrugs. “Okay, all things considered. How are you? I’ve missed you”— _he missed me?_ —“this past week. I mean, it was weird not having you here.”

That was it. He didn’t feel regret for breaking up with me; he didn’t feel heartbroken; he was still Cameron, just trying to make polite conversation.

I nodded. “Yeah. Sorry, Camille told me to take a few days off after…” I gestured between us.

He understood and nodded. “I got it. So, you’re doing alright?”

I shrugged casually. “Better than ever.”

But that was the biggest lie ever.

***

_Third degree_.

My world was splitting down the middle. Everything we had was gone. I didn’t have someone to go to anymore if the stitch was too hard; I didn’t have somebody who kept a stash of Nutella in some cabinet; everything was just crumbling down.

I bought some marijuana to try and help, taking the occasional smoke and watching it go up. I saw our whole relationship go up with it.

At this point, I was desperate. I went to see a psychic, one of the ones we met for a case. She read some tarot cards, gave me a gem or two, saying that these would help cure me.

Three weeks passed and still nothing. I tried hypnosis, more alcohol and weed, watched every breakup movie and show, read every book, I did everything. I could not figure out how to fix myself.

Then again, I was stupid enough to think all that shit was going to heal my soul.

***

_Fourth degree_.

I thought I was better. I could handle seeing Cameron at work every day. I could make that small talk in the break room. I could go on field outings with him like we used to.

I began to think the items the psychic gave me were actually helping. I began to carry them around with me everywhere. I was feeling good.

It was four months after our break up. We seemed to be friends again. He began to call me by some of his nicknames but dropped some of my favorites, like Princess, Buttercup, Cupcake, _Stretch_. It didn’t matter though. I had Cameron back in some capacity.

Life was going well. I could see why Camille dug being single. Then I hit the fifth degree.

***

_Fifth degree_.

I was walking home from the lab one night. It was something I had begun to do more often since I didn’t have a ride from Cameron anymore. I walked by one of our favorite restaurants. I could smell it from two blocks down.

Then I saw him.

Hand in hand with another girl.

Dressed in a nice suit, the suit that we picked out together. The suit I always made him dress in, even if we were just lounging in the apartment sometimes, because he looked so handsome. The suit he always wore with the watch I got for him for our six-month anniversary. The suit he wore to his sister’s wedding. _The suit_.

She was in a beautiful sundress, a dress that flowed in the breeze with her. A dress that complimented her golden brown locks and olive-colored skin. A dress that I knew Cameron would admire on me and make me wear if we ever had a picnic. A dress that was absolutely perfect.

I stopped dead in my tracks, walking in between two buildings to stare. I couldn’t breathe. I could feel the tears swell in my eyes. He was happy, a smile spread across his face that I hadn’t seen in a long time.

I stood across the street and watched. He requested what we called “our table.” It was a table outside and far in the back, one where nobody could see us if we began kissing spontaneously or wanted to leave without the waiter knowing (always leaving more than enough to cover the bill and tip).

Everything was happening in slow motion. He pulled out her chair before sitting in his own. He ordered some nice wine, kissed her occasionally, and never let go of her hand.

I couldn’t tell you how long I stood there and watched. Eventually, I forced myself to look away. I ran the rest of the way home, sinking to the floor as soon as the door to my bedroom was shut and locked.

I guess I didn’t fix myself as well as I thought.

***

_Sixth degree_.

It took me another three months to get over that night and accept that Cameron had moved on. I went to more psychics, got tarot cards read, found more gems and stones, wanting more than anything to believe all that shit was going to heal me. I finally began to look at what I could have done to spark the break up.

I realized how one sided it seemed to be. I realized that he tended to make the plans, occasionally asking for my input but not often. I realized I might have taken advantage of him a few times. I realized that he never thought I was over Liam. I realized that I might have always pushed his limits.

I finally admitted to myself that I probably fucked up a little.

***

There’s no starting over for us. He already died for me; he already moved on. I didn’t realize what I had until he was gone.

I still don’t have all the closure I would like, not even close. But I would take him back, no hesitation.

And that’s how I know I’ve reached the sixth degree of separation.


End file.
